November 1, 2022

Muna lived in a land called Low.  She wanted to travel to The High.  The way, she thought, was clear.  She recollected it from descriptions passed down to her, generation after generation.

She hit the road.  Her journey ended in a roadblock.  She doubled back and took an alternate route.  Another detour. 

She consulted her map.  There was another avenue.  She took it.  But another hindrance.  After multiple attempts, she finally consulted her GPS.

Many highways existed.  But they all ended in barricades and barriers, obstructions and obstacles.  

After 11 failed attempts (or more), she stopped.  Frustrated, she got out of her car.  There was no one to ask.  There was no company to seek. 

Along the side of a road was a footpath.  It was narrow, dark and utterly unfamiliar in every way.  

She took it. And walked and walked.  

At the end, a light.  The footpath opened to a vast ocean.  

She felt like walking into the sea.  And did. 

The sea suddenly opened into a path of 99 other paths.  Each path led to the same path. To The High.

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